


Mary Magdalene

by Mossbride (Morbidfeatures)



Series: Words [4]
Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/F, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Incest?, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Pregnant Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spider Pennywise (IT), Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26345209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morbidfeatures/pseuds/Mossbride
Summary: Mary is pregnant and she has no clue how.
Relationships: Pennywise (IT) & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Words [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1425526
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Mary Magdalene

Mary Magdalene is pregnant and she has no idea how. She's a grown woman in her late twenties, a new arrival to Darry with no time for romance, a small business to start, and bills to pay.

The last time she had sex had been months ago. Too long for the tiny life she feels growing inside her. She hasn't begun to show, didn't buy a pregnancy test, it's just an overwhelming feeling that emanates from inside her body that makes her positive she's pregnant. It's a strong pulse of knowing that she's carrying something inside her. She finds no need for a pregnancy test or a confirmation from a doctor. She just wishes her dear beloved Mamá we're here to talk her through this.

People say that Mary Magdalene glows a bit brighter than the rest. Her eyes are kind and smile wrinkled. Skin sun worn and dark, evidence of a woman in the midst of living a full life. The accent that lilts her words is warm and welcoming rather than decidedly suspicious.

Kids and adults alike gravitate towards her, The core of her being a balm to the souls of the weary, Maybe that's why it noticed her.

She feels the kick of her baby, cupping a poking foot and wincing in pain. So strange and yet a welcomed sensation. A baby to care for. She'd never thought she would have one. At twenty-six she's far older than her mother when she got pregnant. 

This baby is someone to love and love back. Already, she can see them in her mind's eye. Chasing fireflies in the afternoon, crawling around her home. Eating. Always eating something red and meaty.

She added extra locks to doors. A voice inside telling her to keep It out. A silly urge that she followed nonetheless since it causes little change to her routine. But no matter how many locks she installs because of her paranoia (nineteen on just the front door) it never satisfies the voice.

This night like all the others begins with her laying down wearing a pretty nightgown for comfort and closing her eyes.

The dream is the same each time.

The warm sensation starts at the tips of her toes. Dragging up to lay at her waist where her belly gives a sharp reaction. A baby's greeting.

The jingle of bells sounds from under her bed. A sharp contrast in the silent night.

"Nice meat. Nice meat." Comes a sweet and jolly voice under the bed. Its happy tone twists the words beyond their meaning. She hardly understands anything being said.

"Good meat." The creature rises, a blob in her peripheral vision. Like all the times before her limbs are lead-lined and hard-pressed to move. She can't do anything but gape up at the ceiling.

It licks the side of her throat with a slimy 'tongue'

More limbs crawl out of the dark. Too many to count and more than an octopus has. They grab for whatever they can get of her, pushing her nightgown this way and that, twisting and running themselves over her sides while she drowns in sensation. She hasn't allowed anyone to hold her so intimately in a long time.

They grip her, limbs spreading her thighs and in her foggy state, she revels in the feeling. Willingly opening and emitting a soft whine. delicate ribbons on her shoulders are rolled down. Her breasts become stiff peaks in the hot night air, the silky nightgown becomes nothing more than a belt around her middle, not even visible due to her belly, which the tendrils strangely stay away from.

One strand lingering on the joint meeting of thigh and sweet nirvana. Preparing for penetration. The teasing licks of this strand have her clenching painfully for anything to fill her cunt to the point of breaking.

That's what this thing did right? Pump her full of seed. The evidence grows inside as she thinks. In her foggy state, the realization is a dull hammer not hitting the head but thumping the wood board. No panic.

One tendril suddenly cups her, she gasps, pushing back to feel more with what little force she can muster, finding it thick and wet with the juice of her dripping channel. Encouraging her to rock harder against it, another comes and brushes her clit with just the right amount of sensitivity to have her groaning.

The one on her face flicks over her lips. Sliding down the side of her face. She sucks what she can, enjoying the surrender.

Talons dig too sharply at her sides, so close to the growing life she already loves that a sudden worry too bright to ignore knocks her out of bliss, she croaks."My baby."

It did not like that one bit.

It's piercing whine came like a shriek. Ringing in eternity, painful and breaking something in her head because suddenly her left ear ceased to register sound. Her right barely caught the words. "Not yours, mine."

Real fear drowns out the arousal. The puddle between her legs turns cold and the sweat on her brow stings.

What is it? Why is this thing touching her? Questions come in rapid-fire response as she stares at the ceiling. The once gently lingering touch of asking on her lips turns harsh. It digs into her in an attempt to open the seam of her lips. The one between her legs stays rubbing her oily essence over herself and other tendrils. Spreading every inch of her body in a thin layer of their combined fluids.

It's cock suddenly sinks an inch inside. Her eyes water, and most horrifically, the moan she releases is choked off by the one at her lips seizing the opportunity and laughing itself inside. She gags and more tears stream out.

It tastes like...cotton candy?

It's determined to get her to cum.

"Stupid stupid human."

The tentacle's head is finally in with a wet and audible pop. Stretching the ring of muscle like never before. It's an inhumane test of will. She's nothing but smothered gags and screams. 

"Minemineminemineminemine."

The answering scream doesn't sound like her, but a primal pain-ridden cry of an animal on the therose of death. Speared through the chest onto dirt and rock, spasming away from a predator.

"Please," she begs to the empty air. Her limbs are held still by an invisible force. Otherwise, she'd be running. Blocking the entrance where it's cock gleefully rests. "It hurts."

Jingle jingle. Where the hell are the bells coming from.

In response the bulbous head thrusts in, stopping midway. Her eyes bulge and the please for mercy continue. Choked out and spit filled, they stream down the corner of her lips, the entirety of her face is covered in saliva, A vibration of the tendrils informs her that it is laughing.

No use, whatever this thing is, it can't go farther. Her walls won't allow it.

Ridges that weren't there before cling painfully to skin. Scratching delicate tissue as it pulls out. Screaming is no use, she lies there and sobs.

It reaches deep inside her. Touching the painful end of her channel amidst her shrieks and cries until finally, she hangs limp. Giving up escaping the pain 

Mary is devoid of all then one particularly thin tentacle strategically slides in with the first. Touching the part of her that sends a flood of hormones to the rest of her aching body. She refuses to acknowledge it.

She tries to think of something else. The blue of her mother's favorite dress, it's comforting vividness so clear she could reach out and drown in its loveliness.

Like a kind pair of eyes.

"Poor girl. Poor tasty treat. Mama will make the pain go away."

"Mama." She croaks. Crawling willingly into her arms. Ignoring the rhythmic moves of the thing invading her body, jolting her body towards her and moving her tender breasts. Touching _that place_ that has her nerves singing. Her mother wraps her in her long, long, arms, resting a hand on her belly and rubbing. She tries to keep awake despite the rocking movements. Starting at her beloved mom's smile. She's just as Mary remembered her in long lost memory, when she was five or six and comforted by burrowing her face under her chin. 

It's bliss.

A particularly hard thrust coriening back into the present. Mama simply keeps smiling, grip becoming noticeably harsh. She chokes a scream.

The movement is insistent reminding her that this is not her mother. This thing, with its thousand arms wriggling around her, wears her face and cruelly fucking her. But by then it's too late, the wet slap of skin and the stretching of her cunt is no longer an insistent pain to be fought but a harsh agonizing pulse of pleasure that squeezes down on the cock as it fully coils out and pierces in just as fast, being molded to fit this creature's cock, Her blinding high crashes over her, Without warning or reason. 

She gargles, squeezes her eyes shut, and lays in her _mother's_ arms. _Mama_ cups her face (why are her nails so sharp?) Laughing down at her, tenderly cupping her face, unbothered by the thick tentacle forcing its way into her limp mouth. ' _Her mother doesn't have blue eyes'_ she thinks and closes her own.

Accepting the cacophony of sensations. She refuses to see what a glance already taught her. The face splitting open, a pale face with blood red makeup taking the place of her beloved parent.

_"Still, be still, little thing_." The breath is rotting and red. It's not speaking to her, she's too distracted by a new feeling to register this.

The splash of this creature's cum, and the answering roar that threatens to break her remaining ear canal. The cum streams out almost at once, having no place to fill that ist taken by the two appendages inside her.

Her child is moving. That's the last thought she has as she falls into slumber.

And It feels the child move too. At first, it had sensed the spark, then the leeching of said spark into the core of its hoist being. It does not feel pleasure or happiness but it did rejoice at the proof of success. 

It withdraws from the human, uncaring of tonights gained bruises and wounds, as long as the woman was able to carry the spawn to term it means nothing.

In the morning she wakes up smiling and ready to greet the day.

Mary Magdalene is pregnant and deaf in one ear and she has no idea how.

**Author's Note:**

> Umm I'm sorry
> 
> Constructive criticism or comments in general are appreciated


End file.
